Harry Potter and the Power Behind the Door
by Society
Summary: Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, and he learns about the powers that will allow him to defeat Voldemort...the power behind the door.
1. Default Chapter

Harry Potter and the Power Behind the Door  
  
Chapter 1 - Figg tea  
  
It was a bright and starry night.the night Harry Potter awoke drenched in cold sweat and on the verge of tears. Looking around his room, his thoughts wandered to what he had just dreamt. Sirius had been lying on the floor, blood trickling down from his forehead, Voldemort standing over him, laughing hysterically. Sirius seemed to be pleading with Harry's nemesis, but Harry could not understand what he was saying. Voldemort looked down and said the one thing that made Harry cringe. I told you he would come, risking the lives of his friends just for a dream. Harry opened his eyes, a few tears making tracks on his face. He'd been having this dream ever since he had returned from Hogwarts. No matter how much he tried to empty himself of emotions before going to sleep each night, he could not forget the stunned look on his godfather's face as he fell through the archway. Harry knew it wasn't right to dwell on this, but when there was nothing else to keep his mind occupied, he couldn't help but think back on that night almost a month ago.  
  
He dried the tears from his face and headed for his window, searching for something to distract him. He immediately found that something when a large gray owl slammed into the window with a great THUD. There was rustling as Errol slid down the window, and all Harry could do was watch. There was another thud, and Harry covered his face in disgust. How could he tell the Weasleys that their owl was dead? Hoping not to wake anyone, Harry quickly opened the window and leaned outside the house, trying to catch a glimpse of the bird. All he could see were Errol's wings sticking out of Aunt Petunia's begonias. Harry withdrew from the window, searching frantically for a way to retrieve the fallen bird. Remembering that the Dursleys never locked their door, he looked out again to tell Errol that he would be right there. He abandoned any attempt at reassuring the bird when he realized he was talking to a stuffed feather duster, instead crossing his room in two strides and throwing open the door. He was down the stairs and out into the lawn in less time than it would have taken a niffler to find a stack of galleons in an empty room. Running around to the back of the house, he found the bird still sprawled in the flowers, limp, as if dead. He rushed to its side and picked up the lump of feathers, searching for a head. When he found it, he stared down at it and found that it was staring back, eyes wide in shock. Despite his earlier admonition that it was useless to talk to the bird, he kept asking it if it would be alright. Harry was shocked when Errol winked at him, as if answering his question. Still holding the owl, Harry crept back to his room as silently as possible, not wanting to wake the other inhabitants of the house. Once there, he placed the molten gray feather duster in Hedwig's cage while taking the parchment off its leg. Placing it on his desk, he turned around to check on Errol and decided he was in no need of help, as he was already lapping up water from Hedwig's dish. Having seen to that, he returned to his desk and tore open the letter, revealing Ron's untidy scrawl:  
  
Hey Harry,  
Hope the Muggles are treating you good. I would have written earlier  
but Pig's completely fascinated with the ghoul in the attic, and he  
won't let me catch him. It's kind of annoying. As soon as the ghoul  
finally gets quiet, Pig dives down on him and he starts up the ruckus  
again. I think he finds it entertaining. Mom finally insisted that I  
use Errol instead. Said he needed the exercise.  
Anyway, a couple of us are coming your way to pick you up in a week  
or so. Dung said he'd get us a car, so mom's refusing to go, but she  
said that since it was for you, she wouldn't turn him in for thievery.  
  
Speaking of mom, Percy wrote the other day. Listen to this, mate: I  
would like to present my sincerest apologies. It seems the Ministry  
was led to error on the confirmation of Voldemort's return, and now  
that the truth has come to light, my involvement with our family can  
resume. How bogus is that! Just a month ago, he was denying all of us,  
and now that his precious minister's acknowledged us, we're family  
again. That just makes me want to go over there and smash his head  
into a standardized cauldron bottom.  
Well, gotta go now, see you in a week, mate.  
  
Ron  
  
Harry put the letter back unto his desk, chuckling at Ron's anger. He could see Ron's point of view, and knew Percy was a git, but he was glad that all of the Weasley family was intact again.  
  
There was a swoop at the window and out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw his owl Hedwig entering the room. He was delighted to see her, since she had been gone for nearly a day now. She flew over and landed on his shoulder.  
  
"Hi Hedwig," he said, stroking her soft feathers. "Where have you been?"  
  
She hooted and looked down at her leg, where there was a scroll closed off with a seal he didn't recognize. It was the face of a phoenix over the initials A.D. Harry retrieved the letter and broke the seal, taking out a scarlet piece of parchment with gold ink. He unfolded it and began to read.  
  
Dear Harry,  
I'm writing to inform you that a blue car will arrive at your house  
Saturday at six twenty-three in the evening to escort you back to the  
Order of the Phoenix Headquarters. Lupin and Tonks will be assisting  
you, along with Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. I would come myself, but  
I'm afraid I have pressing matters to attend.  
Yours Sincerely,  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
Harry's spirits were lifting by the minute. First he had received a letter from his best friend informing him that he would soon get to leave, and now, Dumbledore was trying to get him out of there, unlike last year, when he was trapped at the Dursleys for what felt like an eternity. Not that the Dursleys had been bad this year. In fact, it was quite the opposite. They had been almost pleasant. Uncle Vernon had so far ignored Harry, only glancing at him at mealtimes. Aunt Petunia, on the other hand, had complimented him on his yard work, and had given him the first share at every mealtime. They even told Harry he didn't have to do his normal chores, but he insisted in an effort to keep his mind off Sirius. He hadn't seen Dudley much, so he simply assumed he was out beating a defenseless ten- year-old to a pulp with his friends Pierce, Malcolm, Gordon, and Dennis. When Dudley was home, he could only be found in the kitchen watching television as he ate, or in his room playing video games. This was an immense improvement on their earlier attitude, and Harry wondered why they couldn't have been threatened years ago. Looking up at his clock, he found that it was three thirty, and since he was going to have a full day today visiting Mrs. Figg, he laid back down and tried to clear his mind. Before he knew it, he was lost in the oblivion of sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry awoke the next morning to a room flooded with light and the ruckus of hooting owls. Errol was sitting on his bedside table making more noise than Harry thought was possible for a half dead bundle of feathers.  
  
"What is it you ruddy owl?" Harry asked, probing the bedside table for his glasses. As if answering the question, Errol stuck out his leg and let out another screech.  
  
"Fine, fine," replied Harry, removing himself from his warm comfortable bed and crossing his room to sit on his desk chair. Pulling out a salmon colored piece of parchment, he scribbled a note to Ron and tied it to Errol's foot before heading down to breakfast.  
  
Upon entering the kitchen, he found Aunt Petunia bustling around making eggs and bacon, and Dudley sitting nonchalantly in his chair, as if in a reflective mood, which seemed exceptionally unusual to Harry, since Dudley had never been known to think for himself much. As soon as he noticed his cousin's entrance, the well-endowed boy snapped back to the real world, slightly squirming in his seat.  
  
"I was wondering when you'd get up," Aunt Petunia said, though her back was still turned to him.  
  
"Where's Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked in return, not seeing the usual signs of his presence.  
  
"He left an hour ago. He's got an important meeting with an executive from a rival company who's been talking about merging for the past few weeks," she said, proud that her husband was considered influential enough to act as representative of Grunnings. Aunt Petunia turned and placed a dish of bacon and eggs on the table before putting mounds of each on both the boys' plates.  
  
"Aunt Petunia," Harry asked after taking a bite of bacon, "Will it be ok if I go over to Mrs. Figg's house today?"  
  
"Why would you want to go over there?" Dudley asked, orange juice dribbling down his chins. "Her house always smells of something dreadful."  
  
"She asked me if I could come help her out with some yard work," Harry instantly replied, unwilling to explain his real reasons. Mrs. Figg had actually invited him to come by and have tea with her today at two, but he saw no reason for the Dursleys to know that. It would give him a chance to finally talk to someone with real sense.  
  
"Of course you can," Aunt Petunia interjected, something obviously on her mind. "Dudley and I were going to London today anyway. We're meeting Vernon for lunch, and we still have to get my Dudleykins his new tailored school uniforms."  
  
Dudley rolled his eyes, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else at that moment.  
  
"About what time should I expect you home?" Harry asked expectantly, hoping to get the house to himself after his visit with Mrs. Figg.  
  
"I'll be home in time to make supper and for Dudley to watch boxing at his friends house."  
  
Harry knew very well that Dudley did not watch boxing, as he'd much rather practice it on anyone unlucky enough to be at the park when he made his arrival. No matter, the longer he was away, the better.  
  
After breakfast was over, Harry excused himself from the table and headed back upstairs where he showered and found some better fitting clothes. After getting dressed, he walked to Mrs. Figg's house two streets away. Stepping up to the porch, he rang the doorbell and waited for the door to be opened. Mrs. Figg, though very old, still had a glint to her eyes, as if she had seen many things and experienced numerous joys in her life. In Harry's opinion, she was very much like the female Albus Dumbledore. Upon seeing it was Harry, Mrs. Figg's face broke into a smile, and she beckoned him in.  
  
"I was wondering when you'd stop by," she said, as she showed him to a seat. "Wait here while I get the tea."  
  
Harry sat in the moth eaten chair and started looking around the house as Mrs. Figg made her way to the kitchen, her cats obediently making a path for her. He hadn't noticed it before, but there were many magical items in the older woman's living room. There was a mirror above her mantle piece that he now recognized as a foe glass, a small jar filled with what could only be floo powder, and what looked like a kwikspell book laying on her table.  
  
"Does kwikspell really work?" Harry asked without thinking as Mrs. Figg came back into the room carrying a tray of tea and cookies.  
  
"No, you really must have at least an ounce of magical power to work it. In my opinion, it's all a big fraud. I should have known better than to try it, but you know, the whims of a young girl." she said in response, smiling faintly. "Mr. Figg and I tried many different 'foolproof solutions' to try and get back into the magical world, but none of them ever worked."  
  
Harry, who had never heard Mr. Figg spoken of before, took this opportunity to learn more of the woman who had been spying on him for so many years.  
  
"Hope you don't take offense for my asking, but, what happened to him?" Harry asked, wanting answers, but in no way meaning to offend the only neighbor who was friendly with him.  
  
"He was killed," she said blankly. Looking Harry straight in the eye, she added, "Killed by Voldemort in an attack on Muggle London. You know, I used to live right next door to the Leaky Cauldron. Naturally, when he heard all the commotion, Charles went out to see if he could help."  
  
"Was he a wizard?" Harry cut in.  
  
"As I said last year, I thought you were supposed to be smart. I told you earlier that we tried many ways to gain powers, so it only makes sense that he was not already blessed with the ability. Anyhow, once he was out in the open, he was the perfect victim for Voldemort, who had no qualms about taking advantage of that."  
  
Harry was amazed at how unflinchingly easy it was for her to mention Voldemort's name. "How come you can say his name?"  
  
"It's only a name boy. Besides, after he murdered my husband, he couldn't do much worse. I was completely devastated after it happened, but luckily I knew Dumbledore well, and he kept me occupied."  
  
"How could you know Dumbledore if you're a squib?" asked Harry, now completely forgetting his manners.  
  
"He's Professor Dumbledore to you. His brother had married my sister a few years earlier, so naturally, we were almost like family. After Charles died, I had nothing left to lose, so it was no problem to get me involved in the Order of the Phoenix. Until you came along and got rid of Voldemort for us, I spent much of my time trying to help medically. I may not be able to do magic, but that didn't keep me from brewing the more time taking potions. I was also a good source of moral support for members of the order. I still brew up the occasional potion or two."  
  
"So is that why you're house smelled like an apothecary last time I was over here?" asked Harry, his interest building more and more as he discovered new things about this woman.  
  
"That's right Potter. I guess you do have some brains after all," said Mrs. Figg, looking at Harry approvingly. "Anyhow, when you ruined Voldemort nearly fifteen years ago, Dumbledore came to me and asked if I could keep a watch on you here. It seemed like an easy enough job, so it gave me the opportunity to retire and begin my cat colony." As she said this, one of her smaller cats walked to her and nudged her ankle, purring contentedly. Mrs. Figg bent over slowly and put it on her lap, stroking it behind the ears.  
  
As if on cue, cats began purring from all around Harry. Looking about, he noticed that nearly all of Mrs. Figg's pets had settled around her chair, like little children awaiting a bedtime story. It was strange watching them sit, as if they understood what was going on, and his mind was playing with the idea that perhaps they did when his train of thoughts was broken by an interruption from Mrs. Figg.  
  
"Would you like a cookie, Harry? I see you haven't touched any of them since I set them down," she said, giving him a look as if to tell him that they weren't poisonous.  
  
Harry and Mrs. Figg's conversation continued for a little bit as they had tea and cookies, which turned out to be better than the stale cake he had had the last time he was there. They talked about many trivial things, but most of all, Mrs. Figg found interest in his opinion of Hogwarts and how he was spending his time there. Before they knew it, it was nearly four o'clock, and Harry announced regretfully that he would have to leave if he planned on getting any homework done while the Dursleys were out. With a parting wave, he bid her goodbye and headed home. 


	2. Owls with OWLs

Chapter 2 - Owls with O.W.L.s  
  
The rest of the week went by in a blur as he spent most of his time taking tea with Mrs. Figg or doing his homework. Finally, the day on which he was planned to leave arrived, and Harry was anxious to get to number 12 Grimmauld Place. He packed up the little bit he had, and when that was done, began a great search of his room, looking for any items he might have missed. He saw the broken mirror Sirius had given him laying on his desk where he had left it. In an effort to keep a token of his godfather's life, he wrapped it carefully and put it in his trunk. He returned to his search, and as soon as it was done, he was left with nothing to do other than pace in angst, until he felt his stomach grumbling. Realizing he had not had breakfast yet, he headed downstairs, where Uncle Vernon and Dudley were sitting at the table as Aunt Petunia prepared their meal. No one paid any attention to him as he entered the room, but as soon as he sat down at the table, Aunt Petunia began heaping food unto his plate. Harry wondered how he had not gained any weight over the summer, considering his Aunt kept giving him very large portions of food, assuming he was as demanding as Dudley. Harry took a few bites but stopped quickly. His fretfulness was making him nauseous, and he certainly could not eat the entire share Petunia had given him. He put his fork down and noticed Uncle Vernon peeping at him from over his newspaper.  
  
"Can I help you?" Harry asked, unsure why his uncle was wearing that particular look of concern on his face. It all became clear when Uncle Vernon decided to verbalize his thoughts.  
  
"How exactly are you getting to this place?" he said with a very suspicious look in his eye. Harry knew exactly what he was talking about. Apparently, Uncle Vernon had not yet forgotten the time when the Weasleys had flooed into his living room, destroying it in the process. Or when they had flown a car to his bedroom window. Harry began to reassure them by explaining about the blue car that would come and get him when Aunt Petunia interrupted him.  
  
"It doesn't fly does.?" She never got to finish her sentence, as a large brown owl swooped in through the window, dropping a letter on Vernon's balding skull. Aunt Petunia yelped as Dudley jumped off his chair and Uncle Vernon let all of his pent up anger out.  
  
"What in this wide, cruel world," he paused here to take a breath, so he could bellow the rest all the louder, "IS THIS OWL DOING IN MY HOUSE!"  
  
Aunt Petunia whacked him, making him stand up, look into her eyes, only to sit himself back down, breathing through his nose so forcefully that anyone going by would have thought he was having an asthma attack. Harry bent down and grabbed the letter from the floor, where it had fallen after Vernon's violent outburst. On the back was the Ministry seal, and when Harry turned it over, he saw that it was addressed:  
  
To the guardians of  
  
Harry James Potter  
  
Number 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging, Surrey  
  
"Why would they send something to them?" Harry asked more to himself than anything. Then he remembered the howler Aunt Petunia had received the previous year. Harry was about to open the letter when Uncle Vernon wrenched it from his grip, almost ripping it in the process.  
  
"It's addressed to us, we're the ones who will open it," he declared, breaking the seal and revealing what was inside. Pulling out the purple parchment, Vernon stared at it in disgust before beginning to read.  
  
To the parents or guardians of Harry James Potter:  
  
Enclosed in this envelope are the results of your son or charge's  
Ordinary Wizarding Levels. Trained and unbiased professionals  
administer this test during the fifth year at Hogwarts School of  
Witchcraft and Wizardry. These will be critical to your child's future  
agenda. No matter what the results, be proud of their accomplishments  
and continue to encourage them to follow their own ambitions.  
  
Athena Goshfunckle,  
Ministry of Magic,  
Department of learning and Magical Testing.  
  
Uncle Vernon stopped reading, asking, "What does this mean?"  
  
"It means I've finally gotten my test results back," Harry answered, waiting for his Uncle to read what he had gotten. To his disappointment, it was not to come so easily.  
  
Examining the second piece of parchment on which Harry's results were printed, Vernon repeated more forcefully, "What does this mean, boy?"  
  
"What your uncle means to say is, what do all these letters stand for?" explained Aunt Petunia, who had been watching over her husband's shoulder.  
  
Harry was reluctant to explain the entire grading system, but under his uncle's stern gaze, he thought it would be preferable to go ahead and do it. He enlightened them about the Outstanding to Dreadful system, leaving out Troll, and then he watched as Aunt Petunia's eyebrows rose. The further down the paper she went, the higher her eyebrows got, and Harry wondered if it was because his grades were extraordinarily excellent, or absolutely atrocious. Uncle Vernon's eyes kept staring in the same place, and his lips were twitching, as if he was trying to keep himself from smiling too much. Harry's heart plummeted when he realized what that meant. He must have done horrible. Nothing else could make his uncle this gleeful. Unable to wait to see his results anymore, he ripped the paper out of Vernon's hands, certain he would find an array of D's, ruining all of his chances at any career after Hogwarts. Peering down at the parchment, Harry felt his mouth dropping open in astonishment. His heart began pounding painfully in his chest as he looked from one mark to the next.  
  
Transfiguration - E McGonagall  
  
Potions - O Snape  
  
Charms - E Flitwick  
  
History of Magic - D Binns  
  
Defense Against the Dark Arts - O Umbridge  
  
Astronomy - A Sinistra  
  
Care of Magical Creatures - E Hagrid  
  
Divination - P Trelawney / Firenze  
  
Herbology - E Sprout  
  
Harry grabbed the nearest chair and sat down slowly, still stunned. Of course he hadn't done well in History of Magic, Astronomy or Divination, he hadn't expected to. What surprised him the most was the great big O beside Potions. Harry broke out in a grin just thinking about it. Snape would hate him for making it into his advanced class, but he had certainly proved the slimy git wrong. Harry was lost in thought, imagining the look of distaste and horror on Snape's face when he realized that his least favorite student would be with him for yet another year, when his aunt got his attention by clearing her throat quietly.  
  
"Well, it seems you had. adequate grades on these exams of yours." Aunt Petunia looked uncomfortable and cleared her throat again before adding, "Um. good work." She seemed surprised that those words had come out of her mouth, and before anything else could be said, she hurried out of the kitchen.  
  
Uncle Vernon watched her go out, shaking his head with a slight frown on his face, before turning back to Harry, his scowl slowly becoming an ugly, mean-looking grin. "So. This useless school you insist on going to can't even teach the few subjects it has that are almost sensible. Dreadful in History and barely an Acceptable in Astronomy. I can't say I'm surprised your parents turned out to be worthless." Uncle Vernon had apparently forgotten about the previous year's threats from the members of the Order of the Phoenix, or else his bitterness had built up so much over the summer that not even a warning as obvious as Mad-eye's could keep it from bubbling over. "I always knew you'd never amount to anything. Look at Dudley here, he's about to start an internship at Grunnings next year, and he's the best boxer in his age group."  
  
"Of course!" Harry replied angrily, wiping the self-satisfied smirk off Dudley's face. "He's twice the size of any normal sixteen-year-old."  
  
At this blatant insult, Vernon took a menacing step toward Harry, his face turning a deep shade of red. "How dare you insult MY SON!"  
  
"You insulted my parents!" Harry snapped back, whose anger was now at least as elevated as his uncle's. "At least they amounted to something in life. All your son can do is go around beating up skinny ten-year-olds with his gang of idiots. If I were you, I would have disowned him by the time he was ten."  
  
Uncle Vernon stalked the rest of the way to Harry and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. As he was lifted from the ground, Harry noticed a cat sprinting away from the house, probably frightened off by Harry and Vernon's screams. "You dare insult us after all we've done for you," he said, his voice now dangerously low. "You completely disrupted our family life when you arrived here, and for ten years you were a nuisance to us day and night. Then you invaded Dudley's extra room, did that horrible trick on my sister, and almost killed my son just last year." His voice got louder and louder as he numbered the ways in which Harry had inconvenienced his family until finally he was screaming his head off, his eyes almost bulging out of his head. "AND NOW YOU'RE INSULTING MY SON! That's it! Petunia was able to convince me to keep you for all these years, but this is it. You have crossed the line." Vernon was about to announce that Harry was officially evicted from the house, never to return, when there was a loud and urgent knock at the door.  
  
"Go get the door Dudley," Uncle Vernon ordered, looking venomously at Harry as he put him down. Dudley waddled out of the room as fast as his legs could take him, scared by his father's display of anger. Harry massaged his throat where his shirt had been cutting off his air, and Vernon snapped at him to straighten himself up before whoever was at the door saw him. Harry looked up at his uncle, anger still flowing through his veins, but he did as he was told nevertheless. In an effort to get as far away from his uncle as possible, he stomped into the hall, where he saw Mrs. Figg trying to get into the house past Dudley, a worried look on her face.  
  
"There you are Harry," she said, obviously relieved at seeing him alive. "Mr. Tippers told me you were in trouble."  
  
"I'm fine," Harry replied, shooting a weary glance at his uncle.  
  
"Of course you are, dear, now pack up all your stuff," she countered, shooting daggers at Harry's aggressor. Not wanting to argue, Harry bolted up to his room and gathered his trunk and Hedwig's cage. He was about to hurry back down the stairs, when he heard Mrs. Figg screaming at Uncle Vernon and thought better of interrupting.  
  
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, YOU OLD MUGGLE FOOL? YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HE'S BEEN THROUGH AND WHAT HE'S DONE TO HELP KEEP YOU SAFE AND HELP YOUR FAMILY. YOU ARE A SORRY EXCUSE FOR A MAN."  
  
Harry decided to enter the room at this point, and the scene before him was shocking. Uncle Vernon was cowering in a corner while little Mrs. Figg towered over him. Noticing Harry's entrance, she stopped yelling at once and took Hedwig's cage from him, indicating that he should lead the way out. Once on the road, Mrs. Figg apologized to Harry for having arrived so late. "For someone as old as me, it's hard to run two blocks at a sprint."  
  
"How did your cat warn you that Uncle Vernon was attacking me?" Harry asked, wondering if Mr. Tippers was the cat he had seen running off after his uncle had grabbed his collar.  
  
"Oh, you know, I just know my cats so well, I tend to understand what they want. I have been asking them to keep a watch on you at all times, just in case something like this happened."  
  
Harry could tell she wasn't telling him all of it, but he let it be, simply glad to have gotten away from the Dursleys. They did not speak at all for the rest of the walk, Harry trying to guess at what Mrs. Figg was keeping quiet about, and Mrs. Figg watching her ward's every move, taking her guard duties very seriously. When they reached her house, a thought struck Harry, causing him to look back at number 4 Privet Drive in panic.  
  
"Mrs. Figg! I'm supposed to get picked up by Lupin and Tonks today. How will they know I'm not at the Dursleys?"  
  
"I can send a message to them, Harry," Mrs. Figg reassured him.  
  
"But an owl will never get there in time!" Harry shot back, unhappy about having to return to the Dursleys, if only for ten minutes.  
  
"Hasn't Dumbledore told you? We have other ways of communicating that do not involve floo, or anything the ministry can track, for that matter." She looked at him thoughtfully before adding, "Now go sit down while I go into the kitchen to get some tea."  
  
Following her instructions, he went into the living room, where he put his trunk on the ground and slumped into the moth eaten chair next to the sofa. As Harry thought back on the fight with Uncle Vernon, an intense wave of sadness and fury came over him. He wished he had known his parents, and he wished Sirius could still be here with him. All he wanted to do was go out and rip Voldemort apart one piece at a time and shove him down Bellatrix Lestrange's throat piece by piece, as painfully as he could.  
  
When Mrs. Figg entered the room, she immediately noticed that Harry had a sad introspective look on his face. "What's wrong, Harry dear?" she asked, her voice full of concern. "Does it have anything to do with Uncle Vernon?" she continued, trying to pry it out of him. Still after no response, she said, "Does it have to do with Sirius?" After another pause, she added, "You can talk to me, you know."  
  
Harry, coming out of his trance, realized that he really did need someone to talk to. Making his mind up, he began explaining what he was thinking. "It's just that, for the first time I saw a chance for change in my life, and it looked good. I'd have a father-like figure to have fun and live with as soon as they got every thing in order. Then, just because I messed up, it's never going to happen. It's like all my hopes have fallen through that stupid archway with Sirius." At this last remark, Harry looked down at his hands, resting on his lap, a small tear running down his face.  
  
Mrs. Figg kneeled down in front of him and waited for him to look up, then she said, "I know what you're going through, Harry. As I told you the first time you came over this summer, we all lose people in our lives, people we love, people we cherish, and maybe even some people that we only know as acquaintances. It hurts, it truly does, but we have to live on, especially in this time of terror, and know that they did not die for nothing. They gave their lives for something bigger than us, and they gave their lives so that others could live. Just promise me, Harry, that when you face Voldemort, as we both know you will someday soon, remember those people who died so that we may live. Remember your parents, Sirius, and even my husband Charles." Mrs. Figg, a tear slipping down her cheek, stood up and exited the room.  
  
Harry looked around in mild shock, thinking about Mrs. Figg's stirring speech. It was true, too. Many people had died, just for the sake of one man. With that thought, Harry promised himself that he would not allow Voldemort to hurt anyone else he loved, and would take revenge on the one man that had caused such terror that his name would not be spoken for decades.  
  
Harry's train of thought was broken by a letter falling through the chimney and landing into the fire. Harry rushed to it, unsure what it was, but certain it wasn't meant to be burned upon arrival. When he got to the fireplace, he was surprised to see that the letter did not even have one burn mark. "Mrs. Figg!" Harry shouted. "How can we extinguish this fire without magic?"  
  
"Why would you want to do that?" Mrs. Figg asked from the other room.  
  
"There's a letter in here!"  
  
"Well, it's probably too late for it now, dear."  
  
"No, it isn't burning."  
  
Upon hearing this, Mrs. Figg hurried to the living room, curious about this strange occurrence. "Why don't you use the tongs?" she suggested helpfully. Harry grabbed them and reached into the fire, digging the letter out from under a log that had fallen on it. He was very careful with the paper at first, in case it was still hot from the fire, but it seemed to have kept room temperature throughout its ordeal. Seeing no harm, Harry opened it.  
  
"Well, what does it say?" Mrs. Figg asked, curious as ever.  
  
"Here, you can read it aloud," Harry volunteered her, knowing she would be pleased with the offer.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I'm writing to give you congratulations on how well you did on your  
O.W.L.s and to tell you that you will be able to take the necessary  
classes for auror training. I knew you could do it all along. I have  
to tell you, Potter, that you are certainly one of my class favorites,  
and most of the other teachers agree. You've exceeded all of our  
expectations by constantly bouncing back despite what happened to you.  
Now, I'm warning you Potter, you will not be aware of our favoritism  
in the grades you get, so you better continue to study hard. Anytime  
you need my help, ask me, and I will be happy to lend a hand. I want  
to see you succeed, Harry, I want you to succeed despite what everyone  
says, and I want you to have a longer life than anyone will give you  
credit for.  
  
Yours Sincerely,  
  
Professor M. McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress  
  
Harry was glad that McGonagall was on his side, especially since he was going to have to be in Snape's class for another year. As certain as death and taxes was the fact that Snape hated him.  
  
The rest of the day passed by quickly and before Harry knew it, it was almost time for Lupin and Tonks to be arriving. He couldn't wait to see all of his friends again, but he would miss Mrs. Figg over the next few months. With three minutes till six twenty-three, Mrs. Figg came up to him and hugged him affectionately.  
  
"Harry, I just want you to know that I'll be thinking of you while you're away, and I want you to bear in mind what I told you this afternoon."  
  
Right as she said this, there was a loud honk outside, and Harry hurried out the door to see his friends, Mrs. Figg at his heels. He got to the car where Tonks hopped out with a smile on her face and said, "Wotcha Harry." She helped him stow his things in the back of the car and both headed back to the car doors. Tonks got into the passenger seat, and Harry waved one last time to Mrs. Figg before jumping into the back where Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. 


	3. The Strategy of Study

Chapter 3 - The Strategy of Study  
  
Upon entering the car, Harry was surprised to find himself shoved into the window by Hermione, who was hugging him fiercely.  
  
"Harry! We were so worried about you," she said, her hair tickling Harry's face. "Dumbledore told us that your Uncle tried to strangle you."  
  
"Well, that's not exactly what he was trying to do," Harry explained while prying Hermione off himself. "He was just trying to scare me."  
  
"Someone should go over there and hex the git!" Ron cut in heatedly.  
  
Looking over at his friend, Harry noticed that he looked ganglier than ever. His legs looked very cramped in the spacious car, and his pant legs were above his ankles.  
  
"What have you two been up to?" Harry asked, quickly changing the subject. "Have you guys been together all summer?"  
  
"No, not all summer," replied Hermione promptly, trying desperately to avoid an argument like last year's.  
  
"Guys, I'm not upset," he reassured them. "I know now why I have to stay there," he said, remembering how Dumbledore had explained to him the previous year that his family's blood was the only thing that had kept Voldemort at bay for so long.  
  
"My summer was pretty cool," Ron said, oblivious to the tension that had built up in the car. "We started out at the burrow, until Dumbledore could sort out a few things over here. Fred and George came over with a few of their new products. We tried a couple of them out; they had an awesome broom booster that made the old cleansweeps look good, and I warn you mate, don't ever let them give you an extra-lint mint. It took me a whole week to get the lint out of my belly button."  
  
Harry chuckled a little bit, thinking of Ron's belly button with lint spilling out of it. "Well anyway, mom cried for about a week after Percy wrote. She'd be doing stuff around the house, and all of a sudden she'd start crying. I think it's because she was happy this time, though," Ron finished.  
  
"Of course she was happy! It's like her prodigal son's come back. or at least, writing again. It's heartbreaking for a mother to lose her son."  
  
"But there's another five of us, and Percy was always a git anyway," said Ron indignantly.  
  
"You are so insensitive, Ron," Hermione shot back, looking at him in disgust.  
  
Harry simply sat back, looking out the window, and listened to his friends bickering, until he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Tonks looking at him, her flashy red hair shining in the sunlight. "We'll be glad to have you with us Harry. Lupin and I will be living at Grimmauld place with you and the Weasleys, sort of like your personal set of bodyguards," she stated with a wink. "It'll be fun," added Lupin, glancing at Harry through the rearview mirror.  
  
Had it been anyone else, Harry would have rolled his eyes at the thought of being followed around all the time because people didn't believe he could take care of himself, but he liked Lupin and Tonks, and he was certain they wouldn't get in the way. "At least it's not Moody," Harry murmured. There was a thump in the back of the car and Harry assumed it was because of a speed bump, before he continued, putting the sound out of his mind, "We'd have to go around the block at least seven times before we could leave to go anywhere."  
  
"I wouldn't bet on that, Potter," came a muffled voice from somewhere behind his seat, making Harry jump in surprise and almost fall to the floor.  
  
"Put your seat belt on!" Hermione yelled, taking notice of Harry for the first time since the argument had started.  
  
Doing as commanded, Harry asked, "Why didn't you guys tell me Moody was in the trunk?"  
  
"The element of surprise," Moody said. "If you don't know, neither will any of those who are out to get you."  
  
"How come I didn't see you when we put my trunk in the car?" Harry asked, confused and with curiosity running through his mind.  
  
"Think boy!" Moody said, a bit of exasperation in his voice, "I'm wearing my back up cloak, and you set your trunk right on my abdomen. Why do you think my voice is so muffled?"  
  
"I thought it was because of the seat separating us," said Harry, sounding contrite, though not looking the part very well.  
  
"Don't be stupid, the back of your seat is thin enough for me to get through if there's trouble, why should it trouble my voice?"  
  
At that, Harry felt a distinct hand print on his back, as if Moody was trying to show him exactly how thin the back of his seat actually was. He felt a little disturbed by this, but kept the conversation going as if they had not been interrupted. "So Hermy, what have you been up to this summer?"  
  
Harry waited for an answer, but did not get one from her. Instead, Ron interceded, "She won't answer if you call her that. I tried, and she got really mad in the beginning, but now she just goes on as if we weren't..."  
  
As if she could not help herself, Hermione cut Ron off, explaining, "Harry, it's just that, it's bad enough that Hagrid got that undersized giant calling me that. I understand, though, it was too complicated for him, but you two don't have that excuse."  
  
"I don't know," Harry cut in. "Ron's not always up there when it comes to brainpower."  
  
Hermione looked over at Ron as he exclaimed, "What?" somewhat blankly, then rolled her eyes. She then proceeded to pick up her book and begin reading, avidly ignoring the two boys.  
  
"Don't you ever go anywhere without a book Hermione?" Tonks asked in wonder, revealing that her and Lupin were aware of everything that was going on back there.  
  
"Of course not," she answered matter-of-factly, "N.E.W.T.s are coming up soon."  
  
"But Hermione, they're in two years!" Ron burst out incredulously.  
  
"Exactly! I should have started studying as soon as the O.W.L.s were over with, I should have started before that!" she replied in a panicky voice. "I might not do so well, now that I've delayed for so long."  
  
"She's off her rocker, mate," Ron mouthed to Harry, leaning back so that Hermione, who was between them, would not see him.  
  
"What have you been doing this summer if not studying for the N.E.W.T.s?" Harry asked again, intent on getting an answer to his question.  
  
"Well." Hermione said hesitantly, "I spent a week in Bulgaria."  
  
"With Krum!" said Ron, outraged. "I thought you didn't like him anymore."  
  
"He was just a friend," exclaimed Hermione defensively, "I mean he is," she added, seeing the look of horror on Ron's face. Hermione blushed deeply as both boys averted their gazes, Harry's face sporting a slight grin, which grew when he heard Tonks whispering to Lupin up front, "To be a teenager again!" It took Hermione's defensive cry of, "My parents were there too" for Harry to decide to mercifully change the subject.  
  
"So how did you guys get to Grimmauld Place?"  
  
Though the conversation came back to a tamer subject, Ron kept staring at Hermione, and she staunchly refused to meet his eyes. "Hermione came to the Burrow by floo, though I didn't know where from," he added shooting a glare at her. "Then just yesterday we took a portkey to the Black madhouse. You know, that woman's still yelling her head off, but Dumbledore promised us he'd be able to get rid of her by the end of the week."  
  
Harry was surprised when the car slowed to a stop and he realized that they were parked on the side of the street directly between number 11 and number 13 Grimmauld Place. Opening the door and stepping out, Harry walked around to the back of the car where he popped open the trunk and took out his belongings, hearing a relieved sigh as he lifted the chest. There was some scrabbling as Moody got out of the car and Harry began thinking about the Order of the Phoenix' headquarters, when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, appeared its battered door surrounded by dirty walls and grimy windows.  
  
Harry felt mixed emotions at seeing the house. At first, he was overjoyed with being away from the Durlseys and being able to spend time with people he loved, but the joy evaporated when he remembered that Sirius had lived here, and he would never see him alive again. He had hated this place, his childhood home, and now it was Harry's only sanctuary apart from Hogwarts.  
  
He was ripped away from his thoughts by Mad-Eye Moody prodding him insistently in the back. "Get inside, boy, we can't stand around out here all day." With that, Harry noticed that Ron and Hermione were well on their way through the door, so he hurried to catch up, Moody less than a step behind him, sheltering him, as if to block any curse heading his way.  
  
He had not even finished crossing through the doorway when he felt Mrs. Weasleys weight hitting him at full force as she engulfed him in a smothering motherly hug. "Harry, I'm so glad you've finally arrived, I was so worried about you, your uncle trying to murder and everything," she said, gasping for breath before starting again. "We told Dumbledore to let you come earlier, but he wouldn't allow it. He said you would understand, but I don't comprehend what he thinks he is doing sending you back to those impossible Muggles." Taking another deep breath and leading him over to the sofa, she prepared to rant some more, when Hermione and Ron grabbed Harry by the arms and said, "We've got to go get him settled in his room."  
  
Harry was thankful for the interruption, and as they climbed the stairs, they could still hear the random, "Be good," or, "Dinner will be ready in an hour." On that last shout, Mrs. Black began screaming her regular litany of "Muggle lovers, mudbloods, and werewolves, in my house!" They scrambled the rest of the way to the boys' room and slammed the door shut, plunging the room into silence. That is, until Ginny, who had been sitting on the bed, saw them and began screaming in excitement, running to Harry and giving him a tight hug. "You're finally here! This is great, Mom'll finally stop coming in every five minutes to tidy up, and she'll stop being so frantic, too."  
  
"Man Harry, what's up with you and girls?" said Ron, "This is the third one to throw herself at you today." As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Hermione and Ginny threw themselves at him, but rather than hugging him, like they had Harry, they smacked him hard.  
  
Harry placed his trunk at the foot of his bed and Hedwig's cage on a dresser. When he was all settled, he realized that the room did not seem as gloomy as it had the previous year. As a matter of fact, except for Mrs. Black's incessant screaming, the house seemed like a completely different place. Harry walked back out into the hall and noticed for the first time that most of the portraits along the wall were of various Weasley family members.  
  
"What's wrong," Ginny asked, concern in her voice as she stopped trying to injure her brother.  
  
"Why are your pictures on the walls?" Harry asked, returning to the bedroom and sitting on the chair next to the bed.  
  
"Well mate, that's why we brought you up here," Ron said, doing his best to keep Hermione at bay. "We have some interesting news to tell you." Ron looked over at his sister, as if begging her to tell it for him. When she shook her head gently, he looked resigned and proceeded to tell the news. "It turns out that Sirius gave us the um. the house." Ron cringed slightly as the words left his mouth, as if he expected some kind of outburst, but then straightened up when he saw Harry's face light up. "You're not mad?" Ron asked incredulously. "I thought for sure he would have given it to you mate. I mean, he never got along very well with Mom anyway, and you were almost like a son to him."  
  
"I don't care, you guys are practically my family anyway. I wouldn't be able to live here my own, Dumbledore would never allow that, so it's just as well that you guys have it. That way I can visit," Harry reassured them. "There's something I have to tell you, from when we went to the Department of Mysteries. Do you know what the prophecy was about?" Dumbledore had told him at the end of the year, but Harry was not sure he would have advised the rest of his friends.  
  
Harry could guess he had not when Ron and Ginny's faces lit up with curiosity and Hermione's saddened with the knowledge that Harry knew something she did not. "I can't remember exactly how it goes, but basically, it says that either Voldemort will kill me or vice-versa. Please don't get scared," he added when he saw the looks of worry on his friends' faces. "Cause you know what," he continued for emphasis, "I don't think I am anymore."  
  
"That's exactly why we're scared, though," Hermione said desperately. "If you tried to find ways to defend yourself in your spare time, then we might feel better, but it's like you just don't care what he does to you anymore. What if you get hurt." she paused, unwilling to voice the last, but knowing it was inevitable, "or die."  
  
"So what do you want me to do about it, Hermione," Harry asked in frustration.  
  
"It's not like we can just go to the library and find an answer," supplied Ron, "I can see it now, 'Madam Pince, do you have a book that treats on the subject of defeating extremely dark wizards?" he asked, pitching his voice higher in an imitation of Hermione.  
  
"Shut up, Ron, that's not what I'm saying!" Hermione snapped back in irritation. "We should be training. There are so many things Harry doesn't know that could save his life if he were to find himself dueling with Voldemort." Ginny flinched at the name, while Harry sat amazed at the assurance with which Hermione had said the name. She must have been practicing over the summer. "There's plenty of information in the room of requirements, and we could ask teachers, too."  
  
"What kind of thing do you suggest we should learn then?" Harry asked, interested in the proposition despite his dislike for studying.  
  
"We could do invisibility, and you've still got to finish occlumency." started Hermione.  
  
"And we could learn apparation!" exclaimed Ron, getting excited about the prospect of being ahead of his entire class at school.  
  
"Ron, how many times do I have to tell you? You can't apparate inside Hogwarts. You should really get to reading 'Hogwarts, a ."  
  
"We don't have to do it at school," Ron said, cutting her off. "It only took Fred and George two days to learn how to do it. I bet we could beat that; they weren't exactly the scholarly type."  
  
"But they had teachers Ron!"  
  
"So," Harry interjected. "Dad and Sirius did tons of things without the help of a teacher. They made the marauders map and they completed the animagus transformation."  
  
"We could become animagi!" Ginny exclaimed, voicing her thoughts for the first time since the conversation had begun.  
  
"And we could start here," finished Hermione. "The library here has much more information than the one at Hogwarts. It's like the restricted section, but we don't need permission to go through it."  
  
"All right, lets go then," Ron proposed. "The sooner we get started the better, I guess," he added, seeming surprised the words had come out of his mouth.  
  
"It's wonderful to see you finally have an interest in learning," Hermione said, beaming as they walked out of the room and headed for the library.  
  
Ron's enthusiasm was short lived when he realized he would actually have to do research, and pretty soon, all books had been abandoned to watch Harry challenging Ron in a game of wizard's chess. They were interrupted halfway through the slaughtering of Harry's bishop by Mrs. Weasley yelling up at them that supper was ready. They reached the dining room and sat with Lupin and Tonks, waiting for Mrs. Weasley to be seated before beginning the meal. They were almost to the main course when there was a soft yet decisive tap at the door. Lupin excused himself from the table and headed out the dining room, only to return a few minutes later with none other than Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt your meal," said Dumbledore, his voice soft but commanding, "but if I may, I must have a few words with Harry."  
  
"Uh, sure," Harry said, excusing himself in turn and following Dumbledore out to the living room. They both seated themselves in armchairs and Harry turned his attention to his headmaster, who was fiddling in his pocket. "Lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked Harry when he noticed the direction of his gaze. Shacking his head, Harry began waiting for Dumbledore to explain why he was here.  
  
"I know everything must be going a little fast for you, but I feel I should keep you informed, in accordance with my promise to you last year. I have decided that, for your own protection, we should add certain classes to your curriculum. If you are willing, we might even begin training over the summer so that you are ready when Voldemort comes calling again." When Dumbledore was finished, Harry simply sat stunned, having been discussing this with his friends just an hour ago. He began wondering if Phineas had not eavesdropped on them and suggested the idea to Dumbledore. "I have asked Minerva if she would teach you animagism, in which your friends can join you if they so desire. You will have an occlumency class with me, and I will extend that to include Legimency. You see, wizards can be very powerful, more powerful than any other, yet they can fail, because they underestimate the mind. This is one thing that both Voldemort and I understand. I failed last year when I did not teach you and left you unprotected." With that, Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth and motioned that Harry was now free to leave, unless he had more questions.  
  
"Just one thing Professor. Could Ginny learn animagism with us? I know that she's younger than the rest of us, but I know that she's ready."  
  
"Of course she can," Dumbledore said approvingly. "You should surround yourself with as many trustworthy people as you can find."  
  
With that, Harry got up and headed back to the dining room, leaving Dumbledore in the living room, where he sat in thoughtful silence. 


End file.
